


Seek and Find

by Rubynye



Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003)
Genre: Foursome, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-14
Updated: 2010-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-06 06:25:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pippin has a grand idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seek and Find

**Author's Note:**

> This is another story inspired by the magnificent drawings of [](http://hyel.livejournal.com/profile)[**hyel**](http://hyel.livejournal.com/), specifically [this one](http://www.livejournal.com/users/hyelandia/44396.html#cutid1). I hadn't intended the story I wrote about that drawing to develop into a torrid chunk of smut, but, well, it did.

**Title:** Seek and Find  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Pairings:** Frodo/Sam/Merry/Pippin, mix and match.  
**Warnings:** slash, hobbitpile, cheerful nonmonogamy  
**Summary:** Pippin has a grand idea.  
**Notes:** This is another story inspired by the magnificent drawings of [](http://hyel.livejournal.com/profile)[**hyel**](http://hyel.livejournal.com/), specifically [this one](http://www.livejournal.com/users/hyelandia/44396.html#cutid1). I hadn't intended the story I wrote about that drawing to develop into a torrid chunk of smut, but, well, it did.

 

It was a winter's night, with the weather so foul that Frodo and Merry persuaded Sam to take supper with them; afterwards, Frodo and Pippin coaxed him into the small parlor, and when Pippin and Merry proposed a game of hide and seek Frodo took Sam's hand and whisked him off. It was a winter's night, cold and wet outside, warm and snug within, and as he and Merry searched Pippin thought it might do well to shade up into heat.

"I think I hear them," Pippin whispered into Merry's ear, enjoying a little flare of triumph when Merry twitched and his breathing stuttered; Pippin continued, pressing closer so his lips brushed across skin as he spoke, "I think they're in---"

Merry wrenched his head away, drawing a long shaky breath that made Pippin want to whoop and to lick him. "The pantry, yes, Pippin," Merry muttered, gravelly and low, but he couldn't hide the smile curling up one side of his mouth, and Pippin grinned back as wide as he might. "The _back_ pantry, or they'd be more careful." Laying a finger to Pippin's lips, rolling his eyes when Pippin licked it, Merry led their silent way across the kitchen tiles, picking a careful path through the squeaky-floored first pantry, and----

One good shove, and the door gave way to reveal Frodo and Sam, arms round each other's waists and mouths joined in an involved kiss. Merry and Pippin dove in laughing as they gasped and jumped back, catching them before Sam could vanish into the cellar and pinning them together with their hands still on each other's waists. Merry wound his arms round Sam's neck, nuzzling his ear, and Pippin grinned over Frodo's shoulder to watch Sam blush and smile.

"So you found us," Frodo said, even and amused, tilting his head back a little, just enough for Pippin to press his face into sweet dark curls. "Not that we made it such a task."

"We still found you," Pippin replied, pushing his face alongside Frodo's, feeling soft hair give way to smooth skin sliding across his lips and cheek. Merry was kissing Sam's nape, Sam's eyelids drooping bit by bit. "Well before the quarter-hour. I think we deserve to choose our prize."

"And what might that be?" Frodo was just a little breathless, tilting his head further as Pippin kissed his jaw. Pippin thought about sliding his hand forward to wind his arms round Frodo's waist, but it rested warmly where it was. Chin on Sam's shoulder, Merry answered, "this is good, but in a bed would be even better."

Sam's eyes opened again, and he looked at Frodo, and thus at Pippin, and was that desire? And Sam didn't demur in the slightest, didn't even frown, and Pippin felt his heart pound. They might really do this...

"Indeed?" Frodo said, cool and steady but not cold, and Pippin knew how to warm that; pulling his mouth back to Frodo's curl-covered ear, he murmured low, "Seeing as that we're sorted for the evening and all, I wonder if Sam might tup Merry, if we set them loose on each other?" Pippin could feel the quiver those words caused, right up and down Frodo's spine. "I think he'd like that tonight, bossy though he is, and with Sam usually not it would be quite the sight, wouldn't it?"

Pippin had more to say, but it was more sensible to shut his mouth on it, to swallow a giggle of excitement and make himself wait; breath quickening, Frodo looked back at him, scandalized and delighted at once. Pippin wasn't sure if Sam had heard, but he was blushing red and looking back at Merry, who had nestled onto his shoulder with closed eyes and a snug smile, and Pippin held his breath against laughter and returned Frodo's hot gaze through his lashes and waited.

Three heartbeats' pause, perhaps four, before Frodo grabbed his hand and Sam's, setting off almost at a run; Merry caught Sam's wrist and followed, and he and Pippin traded grins as they trotted in Frodo's wake.

*|*

Pippin's pleased smugness lasted right through until, in the midst of drawing his shirt over his head, he was abruptly tackled back onto the bed. Judging by Sam's surprised, " 'ey, sirs!" in the middle distance, and the laughter in his ear and over him, Merry had tackled him while Frodo now held his arms trapped in the shirt still swathing his head. Frodo knelt behind Pippin, his hands warm through the tangled cloth, and Merry covered Pippin like the most welcome blanket, his laughter echoing shivers off Pippin's bones, and all of it just made Pippin hungrier, as if on the last mile of a long tramp with a warm smial and a fine dinner at the end of it.

"Hoy!" Pippin said as if surprised, kicking hard enough to bounce them all, easily enough that Merry could ride it out and then tuck Pippin's legs up either side of his waist. "I do recall," Merry drawled, hands stroking down Pippin's sides, teeth sparking-sharp on Pippin's ear, "that this evening's entertainment was Pippin's idea."

"I do believe you're right, Merry," Frodo replied, a chuckle in his voice, slowly working the shirt up over Pippin's chin; Pippin wriggled obligingly, pressing himself into Merry and tangling himself further in the shirt. "Sam, what do you think?"

"Master Pippin's fair wound up, it seems," Sam observed, sounding diffident and fascinated at once, and distinctly nearer. Pippin made muffled plaintive noises through the shirt, and Frodo tugged it up enough to free his nose and mouth. "Let me up!" Pippin cried, meaning no such thing; when a pair of broad gentle hands settled onto his wrists, he was hard put not to grin.

"Why would we do that, Pip?" Frodo replied, sweet and warm. "You must be properly rewarded, after all." Feeling Frodo's words heating him, too hazy-headed with the feel of it all to manage a thought, Pippin couldn't find a retort, but it was no great matter because Merry kissed him then, open-mouthed and hard, hot and perfect. Pippin moaned, sinking into Merry's kiss and Frodo's pleased hum and Sam's impressed gasp as his hands reflexively tightened on Pippin's wrists; Merry chuckled and thrust against him, already hard enough to feel through both their clothes, and Pippin thrust back, pushing off his pinned hands and writhing till he could feel Merry shudder all along their pressing bodies.

Pippin's shirt slid up over and off his face, though he hardly paid it any mind, busied as he was with sucking on Merry's tongue as Merry's hands clutched his hips to pull him in tighter, fingers pressing just wonderfully this side of too hard. A distracting hand tweaked Pippin's eartip, startling a gasp from him; he opened his eyes as Merry stilled and raised his head, and looked up at Sam over them, lips parted and blushing red down to his nipples, and Frodo draped on Sam's shoulder, smiling down at them, his hand stroking up from Pippin's cheek into Merry's hair. Frodo gave Merry a plotting glance, and Merry's answering grin flashed on the edge of Pippin's vision as he peeled himself away and scrambled back off the bed.

The space left behind was cool and empty, and just didn't seem like progress. "Merry?" Pippin called, trying to follow with his gaze as Merry rummaged the bedside table; Frodo's touch tingled up over his ear and back down almost beneath his jaw, and Merry would surely return, so Pippin arched his neck, pressing his face into Frodo's caress and turning his eyes to Sam.

Sam looked unsurprisingly good out of his clothes, broad and golden and finely curly all over; his eyes were round as saucers as Pippin wriggled, smiling slyly up at him and tugging against his satisfyingly strong hold. "Hullo, Sam," Pippin murmured; items clanked in the nightstand and Merry swore under his breath, and Pippin giggled, feeling just a bit proud when Sam didn't even glance over but stayed held in his stare.

Frodo did look over, but then turned back to Pippin, their eyes on him almost a better feeling than their hands; Pippin arched his back showily, and his loosened breeches obligingly slid down on his hips. "Oh, it's not fair," he pretended to complain, "I can't reach you, either of you."

Frodo grinned, shaking his head, and gave Sam a little push. Sam glanced at Frodo for permission or perhaps for persuasion, and Pippin writhed as if in deep distress only a kiss could salve. Frodo nodded, looking mightily amused, and Sam looked back to Pippin with eyes darkening and still wide, till he squeezed them shut and leaned down and kissed him.

Sam's kiss was as gentle and encompassing as his big hands. Pippin tilted his head to better return the kiss aggressively, guessing that Sam would like a little bossiness, and could almost have danced lying down when Sam moaned in response and opened his mouth to Pippin's eager invasion; Sam tasted like pipeweed and sweetness and sunshine, and Pippin pushed his chin up for as much as he could get. Frodo chuckled, and said something about "wilful wanton Tooks" that went half-drowned in the roar of blood in Pippin's ears; no matter, Pippin could retort somewhen later, much later, after he was done kissing Sam. Around Midsummer, perhaps.

In this distance Merry gave a little crow of triumph, then laughed and tugged off Pippin's breeches. "Poor Sam," Merry teased, and at the sound of his name Sam startled and began to pull away, but Pippin pushed his head up to follow and keep him. "These irresistible Tooks; you should have left him wound up in the shirt." Merry was running his hands up Pippin's legs now, and Pippin kicked vaguely in his direction; laughing, Merry caught his ankle and ruffled his foot-fur.

With a wet pop, Sam pulled his mouth free; "Sam, come back!" Pippin gasped, and Sam looked at him with big dark eyes, then turned them entreatingly on Merry. "Mr. Merry, Mr. Frodo, is, I mean, can---?"

"Oh, Pip's made for this, Sam," said Merry cheerfully, leaning over Pippin. "Come here and I'll show you." Sam gulped and nodded, giving Pippin's arms over to Frodo, who disentangled the shirt entirely and stroked Pippin's arms just lightly enough to be a gorgeous sort of tease. Merry reached across to sink his fingers into Sam's hair and tug him across for a kiss; as they leaned over him Pippin felt himself between and half beneath two solid firm hobbits, and couldn't help but wriggle for sheer delight.

Laughing a little at Pippin's squirmings, Frodo leaned down to kiss his brow, and they admired the spectacle of Sam and Merry kissing, eyes closed and mouths moving together. Pippin tilted his head back, but whatever he might have said to cause Frodo to kiss him again was lost utterly when someone pinched his nipple; caught unaware, he gasped, and it had to be Merry, for the pinch didn't slacken but stayed as hard as he liked.

Except that, when Pippin could uncross his eyes to look, it was Sam, with Merry's hand atop his, guiding it. "He likes that," Merry confided with a grin. "Try both."

"That ain't too much?" Sam did, nevertheless, and the sparking burn of it crackled up Pippin's spine, arching it tight, making him cry out. "Mercy!" Sam exclaimed, and let go, and Pippin collapsed shaking back to the bed. "Master Pippin, be you---"

"He's fine," said Merry, while Pippin was still gulping air, too breathless to speak. "You should see what he does when you tickle him!"

"Please do not tickle Peregrin," said Frodo in stern older-cousin tones. "I would rather not have my arms pulled out of joint, or see Sam kicked somewhere delicate."

Merry laughed, pressing his face to Pippin's chest; Sam's eyes grew even wider, if that were possible. Pippin bit his lip against laughing, having just recaptured his breath and all; widening his eyes to match he turned them on Sam and begged, "at least kiss me again?"

Merry whooped, gasping warm over Pippin's skin. Frodo chuckled, squeezing Pippin's hands as he leaned closer. "See how he is, Sam?" Frodo murmured, and kissed Pippin all too briefly. "Utterly wanton."

Well, he _was_ a Took, after all, with a family name to uphold and defend. "I'm demure beside a Brandybuck," Pippin replied, and Merry huffed against his throat and bit him lightly. "Wild, ah, ungoverned hobbits, mmm, that they are," he added, despite Merry's teeth gently worrying at the skin over his pulse, and Merry's laugh buzzed warmly through his flesh.

Tossing his head up, Merry cried, "Untrue, untrue! We're shy and retiring folk, down in Buckland, the tweens most of all." Frodo laughed fit to fall over, and Sam wore such a delightfully doubtful expression that Merry grinned and leaned towards him, saying low, "As you can imagine, they don't let us out much." When Sam leaned closer to hear, Merry gave him a smacking kiss.

Pippin laughed, at the kiss and at the idea of shy Brandybucks, and would have said as much but Frodo kissed him again, headily enough to drive out all other thoughts; blinking a little dazedly, Pippin glanced up to see Sam smiling. "It seems Mr. Pippin's learned well by your lessoning, Mr. Frodo."

"Well said, Sam!" Pippin cried. astounded at this splendid cheekiness, and Merry snickered as Sam blushed. "You hardly can lay this all to my charge," Frodo protested, "Not with Merry about."

"Who taught me?" Merry pushed himself up on his arms, leaning up to catch Frodo's mouth; Frodo bit his lower lip gently, then pulled away and turned back to Sam with a mischievous grin. "And what do you think of my instruction?"

"You've ever been a fine teacher," Sam said, almost too earnest for teasing; Frodo gave him a kiss fond and long and warming to watch, and said softly, "Go put Pippin through his paces."

"Put me through my paces?" Pippin said indignantly. He might be on his back and held down, but he was still himself. "I'll put you through yours, all three."

"We'd expect no less," Frodo murmured, voice like a kiss, as he leaned down.

Pippin would have grinned if his mouth were free, but then if it were he wouldn't be so happy; kissing Frodo back for all he was worth, he sank into the feel of Merry and Sam either side of him, their hands and arms and mouths on him. Merry wrapped Pippin up in the two of them, kissing Sam above Pippin's heart as they traced over his ribs and nipped kisses into his skin, encouraging Sam with laughing words and gentle tugs to stroke and pet Pippin from knee to eartip and back again. Not knowing where he'd be touched next nor how, Pippin wallowed in it all, moaning unabashedly into Frodo's mouth as he writhed ecstatically in the midst of them.

With a final soft kiss, Frodo disengaged himself, and Pippin lay trembling, eyes closed, awash in feeling, his skin tingling and sparking till even a touch stroking round his prick and down behind his eggs hardly felt that much different from anywhere else. Distantly beyond the roar in his ears, there was a pop and a glug, Merry saying, "here," in a laughing voice, and "Go on, your hands are bigger than mine;" a hand stroked circles on his belly, but all of it seemed as connected or not as the firelight and Frodo's knee behind his head and the soft featherbed beneath his back, just more sensations in the flood sweeping through him, submerging all his mind and thought in pleasure.

That was, until a slicked, blunt finger pressed slowly, so slowly, against him, and warm lips parted lightly round the very tip of his prick, and Pippin froze in mid-wail, unable to buck up or down, the wash of feeling eddying to a transfixing dual point. "Oh!" he gasped, thinking _yes!_ and _please!_ and _unfair!_ at once. Merry's chuckle was muffled, and Pippin felt it vibrate into him and knew whose mouth was on him. Did that mean---?

"Is this good, Master Pippin?" Sam gasped, nearly as breathless as Pippin, as that finger pressed a little deeper, it had to be Sam indeed. Pippin managed to nod, his hands clenching helplessly around Frodo's; Frodo squeezed his hands for reply, and kissed his brow gently. "Tell me how many hands you feel, Pip," Frodo murmured.

"I--" One behind his knee, supporting his thigh; one stroking from his belly to his hip; one of course pressing slowly into him. "Th-three." With a swirling lick, Merry pulled off, and laughed when Pippin couldn't help but groan; but then Pippin struggled to a thought, and bore down as hard as he could onto Sam, who gasped as his finger sank to its base and his thumb pushed up on Pippin's eggs. "More, please more," Pippin begged, and Merry laid a smacking kiss to his hip. "That's my Pippin, greedy and grand. I wish I might watch his face and suck him at once."

"You might---" began Sam, but Merry shook his head, curls brushing Pippin's belly. "Oh, no, he's far too delicious to use only my hands," he said, and licked Pippin again so that he shuddered and groaned. Sam whimpered, and Merry leaned across Pippin, murmuring low, "have a taste," and Pippin knew well the sound of them kissing over him, could see in his memory Merry's lips parting over Sam's, Sam's opening to them.

Even so, they mustn't be left to forget him. Pippin wiggled his hips a bit, and Merry laughed and smacked his rump; the jiggles echoed all round the finger in him, and when Pippin clenched and moaned Sam sucked in a shocked breath. "He near nipped my finger off!"

"Add another, then, a partner makes less danger," Merry replied, and kissed Pippin's navel. "And I'm going to suck Pippin, and Frodo will tell us how he looks as we tumble him, won't you?"

"A fair plan," agreed Frodo, as Merry plunged his mouth down on Pippin again, sucking him in to the hilt, as Sam drew back and slowly, slowly eased in another finger, as the whole world became stretch and wet and burn and pleasure and the pound of Pippin's heart. Pinned between Frodo's hands holding his and Merry's pressing on his hip, caught between Merry's hot mouth and Sam's careful fingers, Pippin couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't breathe; so, he could do anything, he could writhe against their loving hold and arch his back and feel all of it coursing through him, pouring out in a scream.

Pippin did surely scream, arching and thrashing and exultant; he realized he'd peaked as he sagged boneless to the bed, echoes flaring and fading, as Merry coughed and Frodo chuckled and Sam let a low whistle. "Well, you should have seen _that_," Frodo drawled; Pippin's hands fell limp from his, and he lifted one to stroke curls from Pippin's damp forehead. "I thought he just might leap from his skin, and he's so flushed his freckles are faded into the ruddiness. Mmm, our magnificent Pippin." Who gasped and laughed weakly and dropped his hand against Frodo's thigh, wishing vaguely that he might have held out a little longer. After all, it _was_ rather wonderful, having had them all tumble him at once.

Laying Pippin's leg down, Sam eased his fingers free; Merry kissed a path up Pippin's heaving chest to his mouth, and Pippin could taste himself in the kiss, and Merry as well, and mayhap even a little of Sam. "Our beautiful Pippin, as ever," Merry murmured, and Pippin smiled against his mouth for it, before Merry turned his gaze upwards. "And what of you, our handsome Frodo?" he asked, reaching up.

Frodo laughed and gently pushed Merry's hand away. "Go and kiss Sam, who if I know him is fit to burst." Speaking right over Sam's attempted protests, Frodo continued, "I'll just hold this melted Took till he solidifies again."

Well, Merry didn't need to be told twice; with a quick kiss for Pippin, he wriggled down and tackled Sam, kissing the pardons off his lips till Sam growled and wound his arms tight round Merry and kissed him back. Pippin smiled and snuggled against Frodo, wrapped in his arms and drowsily watching Merry with Sam, feeling his blood hum gently and his pleasure-heavy limbs slowly lighten with renewed energy. When Merry bit Sam's ear and Sam groaned, and Frodo moaned to hear it, Pippin judged them both up for another round; tucking a hand between them he took hold of the prick poking him in the back, and giggled when Frodo jumped. "Pip?"

"Would you just watch forever?" Pippin asked, wriggling round in Frodo's arms, and kissed the smile right off his mouth.

 

*|*

Pippin woke up slowly, warm and sore and happy. He lay beneath Frodo's arm, legs tangled with Sam's who lay beneath Merry's; Sam and Merry snored in gentle counterpoint, and well they might be weary after all their cheerful games that night. Pippin snuggled back against Frodo, remembering hot kisses and warm hands and how Merry and Sam had looked and felt either side of him; how Merry had thrown his head back and clutched Pippin's hand while Sam indeed did tup him, his face a study in astonished delight; how Frodo had bitten both sides of Pippin's throat as Pippin wound all four limbs around him. Pippin remembered all that and smiled, and when he thought on Sam's splendidly unsuccessful try at leaving afterwards and how he and Merry had foiled it Pippin grinned and was hard pressed to keep from laughing.

Somewhere in the midst of his silent giggles, Pippin realized that he only heard two sets of soft snores; unwinding his arm from Sam and Merry, he rolled over to find Frodo gazing at the window, where pink stripes of winter dawn showed through the shutters. "Hullo," Pippin whispered, and Frodo glanced at him with a smile and pulled him closer with "Good morning, Pip," and a kiss.

Pippin leaned into the kiss, ready to wake up so brightly, but Frodo turned back to looking out the window, pressing Pippin's head to his shoulder. Pippin lay there staring at Frodo staring at nothing for about as long as he possibly could stand it before he asked, "what are you thinking on?"

"My parents," Frodo replied, mysteriously. The last hobbits _Pippin_ ever thought of in bed were his Mam and Da. "What?" Pippin exclaimed, and now Frodo looked at him as intently as he'd looked at the window, a small smile on his lips and his eyes dark in the low rosy light. " I must tell you everything, I see," he murmured, raising his other hand to idly toy with Pippin's curls. On Pippin's other side Sam shifted a little, pressing his warm snub-nosed face to Pippin's shoulder.

"I was dreaming of mountains," Frodo said, and for a moment he looked _through_ Pippin, into distances far beyond the snug bedroom. "I dreamt of high places, and vastnesses, and being alone." His hand paused on Pippin's cheek, and Pippin kissed its heel; Frodo blinked and saw Pippin again, and smiled wider. "So when I woke I remembered my parents, and losing them."

Frodo paused long enough then, fingers tracing the edge and point of Pippin's ear, for Pippin to try to imagine what not having parents would be like, and to fail at it. A Shire without his Mam and Da, well, it was as unthinkable as a world without the Shire. Sometimes after a terrible row with Uncle Sara and Aunt Esme, Merry had grumbled that he almost envied Frodo, but Pippin didn't think he would think that, no matter what row he had with his parents. Frodo still missed his so much, though they'd died before even Merry was born.

So he kissed Frodo lightly, and Frodo smiled and stroked Pippin's nape beneath his curls and continued. "I was remembering Bilbo, too. When he left, I thought myself alone again."

"But you're not," Pippin said, tightening his arm across Frodo's chest, and Frodo grinned, and then wheezed. "So I feel, Pippin, and you needn't squeeze the breath from my lungs to show me." Pippin made a face at Frodo's ungratefulness and loosened his hold, and Frodo kissed the tip of his nose. "And, yes, I'm not alone, not living in Hobbiton, not with Marco and Folco and Freddy, and not with you and Merry and Sam crowding me out of my bed."

Pippin muffled his giggles in Frodo's shoulder, and laid a kiss there. Frodo tilted his hand, turning Pippin's face up for another, warmer kiss, and regarded Pippin with eyes deep enough to drown in. "We'll make sure of it that you're never alone," Pippin promised; Frodo shook his head, but he smiled as if he believed it, and when he kissed Pippin this time he didn't let go.


End file.
